Mary-Cade Mandus - Skin Deep

Elena sat at the kitchen table tying off the thread on a pair of Toddy’s trousers she was letting out when Filch appeared at the door. He wavered upon the threshold and one look into his eyes told her everything. Inwardly sighing she set the mending aside and in an attempt to alleviate some of his apprehension smiled warmly and held out a welcoming hand. The lack of exuberance in his hop denoted his state of mind. Avoiding her hand he sprang atop the table. Bringing his knees under his chin he rocked from side to side as he recounted his betrayal.

When his confession was over he hopped down and solemnly held out a fist. Elena held her hand out palm up. One at a time Filch dropped six silver buttons into her hand. Tears filled her eyes for she knew how much it cost him to surrender his prizes. That there were more stashed away she knew, but that knowledge did not rob the act of its virtue for to Filch each item was as treasured as the next and for him to freely give up even one was a prodigious sacrifice. Solemnly she accepted his reparation. So as to allot him his moment of nobility she’d keep the buttons for a while then return them.

After Filch had gone, Elena thought back to the day when Gyorgy had placed an orphaned magpie chick into her cupped hands. With its wizened worm-pink skin sprinkled with light gray fuzz, and buttercup yellow feet two sizes too big, it had been so comically ugly that they’d been unable to hold back their laughter. Amazingly the bald knob of a head, suspended upon an impossibly slender neck, had dipped up and down, mouth open wide. It had been begging for food, of course, but for a moment had appeared to join in on their amusement. Two months pregnant with Mirella, her budding maternal instincts had been stimulated by and unable to resist the plight of the helpless waif. Her heart had been Filch’s first theft.